


Far Beyond the Universe

by antonomasia09



Series: I Will Know Our Names [2]
Category: Farscape, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crossover, M/M, POV Shiro (Voltron), Past John Crichton/Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron)'s Missing Year, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Wormholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 01:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19240984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antonomasia09/pseuds/antonomasia09
Summary: When Allura's wormhole gets commandeered by a mysterious force, Shiro encounters another man from his missing year.





	Far Beyond the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> This is officially a series now! Thanks alyyks for letting me play in your sandbox!

Another raid on a Galra outpost completed, another failure to find intel on Pidge’s family. Shiro dismissed the rest of the paladins, and took a moment alone to close his eyes and breathe, and shove away the feeling of harsh metal hands dragging him through hallways and the whine of whirling sawblades descending.

Once he smoothed down the hair he’d been clutching and wiped his eyes dry, Shiro made his way to the bridge. Allura and Coran would want to be debriefed and discuss next steps. To his surprise, though, he found Coran in a flurry of activity, running from monitoring station to monitoring station, while Allura stood tense before her pedestals.

“It looks like we have…company in the wormhole?” Coran’s voice was high, incredulous, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Did a Galra ship follow us through?” Allura asked, her face set in the permanent frown she wore while concentrating on navigation.

“It doesn’t look Galra,” Coran replied, peering at the screen. “It doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before.” Shiro wasn’t sure how Coran could tell; the craft was spinning and weaving in a dizzying pattern, and Shiro couldn’t even tell what shape it was let alone what markings it might have.

“No way to know if it’s friendly or not, then?” Shiro said.

“I’m afraid not,” Coran said. “Glad you’re here, Shiro. What do you think we should do?”

“Keep an eye on it for now,” Shiro decided. “Let us know if it does anything hostile.” He hoped it wouldn’t; the idea of getting back into his Lion to face yet another enemy was almost too much to bear right now, and the other paladins needed rest too after their mission.

They continued to fly for a few more moments, until Allura made a soft noise and staggered a little, catching herself on her console. Shiro reached out to steady her, and was concerned by how much of her weight she let him support. 

“My connection to the wormhole,” she explained, clutching her head. “It feels different. Like it’s being overridden somehow.”

“Okay, that sounds hostile,” Shiro decided. “Allura, drop us out into regular space.”

“I can’t,” she gasped. “I have no control over it anymore. There’s no telling where we’re going to come out. Whoever is flying that craft could be taking us straight to Zarkon or to the center of a star.”

Shiro’s breath sped up at that, but he forced his voice to remain even. “Let’s not jump to worst-case scenarios yet. Coran, is there any way to contact them?”

“I can give it a shot,” Coran said, fiddling with his screens. “Okay, try saying something.”

Shiro gently guided Allura to sit on the floor, propped up against her console, and then straightened.

“Attention unidentified craft,” he said, loud and stern. “This is the Castle of Lions. You have altered our course, which we consider to be an act of aggression. Relinquish control over this wormhole, or we will be forced to open fire.”

“Whoops, sorry about that,” came the reply a few seconds later. The speaker sounded male, casual, and oddly familiar to Shiro. “Didn’t mean to take over your wormhole. They just like me. Like giant slobbery puppies, if puppies were transdimensional corridors through space-time.”

Shiro glanced over at Allura and Coran, who looked approximately as dazed as he felt.

“Um. That’s okay,” he said. “Would you mind giving control back to us?”

“Sorry, no can do,” the pilot said. “This wormhole is being very clingy. Tell you what, though, you tell me where you want to be dropped off, and I bet I can get you there. Ish. Probably the right location, at least, although I can’t guarantee the right reality.”

“Oh great,” Shiro muttered. Something was rattling in the back of his mind, a memory he couldn’t quite grab hold of. From the Arena, maybe?

“We were headed for the Lyra Miriandynus System,” Allura said.

“Coordinates would be more helpful than just a name,” the pilot said. “Can’t say I’m familiar with this part of the Uncharted Territories.”

That phrase, and that voice… “Do I know you?” Shiro blurted out.

“Depends who’s asking,” the man said, and Shiro could practically hear his grin.

“Shiro. I’m Shiro.”

The man’s gasp was audible. “Shiro,” he breathed. “It’s Crichton. John Crichton.”

At the sound of Crichton’s name, memories came flooding back. Another human out in space, sent to the Arena to die after his shuttle clipped a Galra fighter and sent it spinning into an asteroid (“Not the first time it’s happened,” Crichton had admitted, “But never on purpose.”). Soothing hands in the darkness after Shiro killed for the first time, and a voice babbling on about an ancient television program, making references Shiro barely understood. Pressing Crichton to his side when the man returned from sessions with the druids shaking and barely coherent, yet still insisting that it was all nothing compared with Scorpy’s chair.

“You disappeared,” Shiro whispered. “I thought they killed you.”

“I was transferred to another ship, and we passed a wormhole on the way. I’m good with wormholes.” There was a pause. “I’m sorry I left you behind.”

Yeah. Shiro was too. But… “I’m glad you made it out.”

“How did you escape?”

“The Arena doctor, Ulaz. Turned out he wasn’t as loyal to the Galra Empire as he let on.” The existence of the Blade of Marmora wasn’t Shiro’s secret to tell, so he didn’t elaborate on that point. “He discovered that there was a giant semi-sentient robot lion that Zarkon wanted was located on Earth, and set me free so I could get to it first.”

“Giant semi-sentient robot lion on Earth,” Crichton repeated. “No kidding. That might win the award for weirdest thing I’ve heard today, and I live on a ship with Hynerian who genuinely believes green food cubes are a delicacy.”

Shiro laughed. “So what have you been up to?” he said.

“Oh, you know,” Crichton answered. “Getting chased around the galaxy by people who want me to build them weapons of mass destruction. The usual. At least I know they want me for my brain, not just my looks. How about you?”

“Similar, actually,” Shiro said. “It’s an interesting life.” He glanced at Allura and Coran, who were looking less hostile now and more amused, trying to gauge how they would react to his next question. “Want to come on board?” he asked. “It would be nice to see you again.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Allura murmured, getting to her feet. She looked a bit better, now that she was no longer actively fighting for control of the wormhole.

“I’d love to,” Crichton said, apologetic, “But I’ve been out here too long already. My friends will be expecting me back.”

“Oh,” said Shiro, not quite able to hide his disappointment.

“Maybe once you’re done saving this part of the universe you can come help me with mine?” Crichton offered. “A giant semi-sentient robot lion sounds like it would come in handy against the Peacekeepers and the Scarrans.”

“They’re pretty handy against just about everyone,” Shiro agreed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll hold you to that. For now, though, this wormhole is ready to be rid of us. If you send me your destination coordinates, I can drop you off.”

“Give us a moment, please,” Allura said, and muted the comms channel. She turned to Shiro. “Another Riddick situation?” she asked. 

He nodded, sheepish. “He always confused me a lot, but he won’t hurt us. He wouldn’t even deliberately antagonize us the way Riddick did.”

“He’s dangerous, though.”

“So am I,” Shiro said. “So are you, if you want to be.”

Allura acknowledged this with a thoughtful frown. “You think he can be trusted to take us where we want to go and not tell the Galra?”

Shiro hesitated. “I trust him to try. From what little I picked up while we were prisoners together, it seems a lot harder to control the wormhole with just his mind than with an interface like you have here on the castle. And no, he won’t betray us. He hates the Empire just as much as I do, for similar reasons.”

“All right, then,” Allura said, and un-muted the comm. Her fingers danced across keys as she pulled up star charts.

“Sending you the coordinates now,” she told Crichton.

“Got it,” Crichton confirmed. “Lyrical Mirror System coming right up.”

That was all the warning they got before they exited the wormhole with a flash of light and an alarming shudder. Allura gripped her console tightly, and wrenched the castleship to a halt, narrowly avoiding a large chunk of space debris.

“Is this it?” Shiro asked.

Coran looked at his screens. “This is the Lyra Miriandynus System,” he confirmed, “But according to our readings we appear to have traveled forward in time approximately two quintents.”

“Some day I’ll get it right,” Crichton muttered. 

“We appreciate it,” Shiro assured him. “Are you sure you don’t want to come on board?”

“Nah, I should be getting back,” Crichton said. “You take care of yourself, Shiro.”

“You too,” Shiro said, and watched a blue event horizon burst open to swallow up the little shuttle.


End file.
